Saturday, April 13, 2013

Last Friday night we spent the night in Athens, GA. We got up Saturday morning, drove to the middle of nowhere, turned left, and at length, arrived at the Tough Mudder racecourse. This was an eleven or twelve-mile run with 21 obstacles, most of them involving feats of strength or the willingness to get completely filthy. There were, like, at least a thousand people with this willingness.

Matt and his gang had trained, prepared, and purchased performance fabrics. They gathered as a group, listened to pep talks, and had to climb over a wall to even begin the race. As they ran away from the start, I was giddy with pleasure at not having to do it myself. But then it started to look like they were really having fun.

Splash.

Just dudes in mud.

Then, after Matt and his friends were all wet and slicked in mud, it was kind of, um, hot, and I realized the full eye-candy potential of this whole scene.

Ceremonial finish-line sweatbanding.

Then they got handed beer.

Then shower time.

Matt and his friends made it through in good style. He felt like his training had been good, he had something left in the tank, and nothing hurt too bad. Nobody liked the electric shocks though.

If I'd been thinking that the race looked really fun, the electrical component was a deal breaker for me.

Hank loved the whole scene.

Muddy family.

And somehow I was really tired after all of this, even though I didn't do anything. I did step in an ant bed though. My struggles! And then we set out for a night at the beach and Hank threw up all over the inside of the car as we passed through Statesboro but it all turned out okay.

There are several young women I know that do one or two of this mud runs each year. They love it except for the mud getting in places they hardly realized were places. With a few too many experiences with electric fences the water/electricity just sounds crazy.